A former Canton citizen is starting to feel at home in Wildcat country.
It’s nothing personal against my beloved hometown Eagles, but the relationship I had with C-Town is simply changing, as all relationships do.
I live here. I work here.
Really, it was inevitable that it would happen, especially since the neighbors are starting to be friendly.
John Hanes came over to my house last night while I was sitting on my porch jotting down notes and enjoying a cold brew.
He startled me at first because I had the radio blasting and didn’t hear him come up behind me.
He introduced himself and invited me to come over and sit with him any time I would like.
I had seen John sitting in his yard before. He lives across the street, and every time I happen by, he is sitting in his lawn furniture enjoying the outdoors.
I told him I would be sure to do that, and he immediately offered me tomatoes and cucumbers, if I liked them.
I’m a country boy, so of course I enjoy such veggies.
I told him I would be sure to pick some up from him, and he went back across the street.
It left me with a smile on my face.
It felt good to have a community member be so open and accepting, enough so to come over and introduce himself to me.
You don’t get that in bigger towns or cities.
Guys like John are what close-knit communities are all about, and he seems like a really nice guy.
Honestly, I have probably spent almost three hours talking with him today already.
As I was walking home from work for my lunch break, I stopped and chatted with him for a while.
We had good conversation, and I learned John used to be a cook before cancer and other illness ravaged his body.
He gave me a loaf of bread he had baked.
I think it was zucchini bread, and it was delicious.
Then, before I came into work this evening to conduct and interview, I stopped to talk with him again.
Before I knew it, I had been standing on his lawn for over an hour learning about his family and time in the military.
It was enthralling.
I found it fun to hear how he had ties to Canton and McPherson that made me fully realize how small of a world it really is.
When I leave work later tonight, he’ll probably be outside, and if he is, I’ll pull up a plastic lawn chair and take it all in.
I’m glad I met John.
Of course, the rest of the town is starting to recognize me.
People are starting to wave at me when they see me, and one guy even asked me, by name, how I was doing as I left the post office.
I’m not sure who he was, for certain, but I’m glad he said hello.
If this keeps up, I’m going to be able to stop referring to myself as “the new editor” and just call myself Todd Vogts, editor of The Ledger.
Auction Experience Creates Possible Habit
Last weekend I went with my brother, Troy, and my cousin, Dale, to an auction near Hesston, Kan.
We were going in search of a washer and dryer for my new house.
We left with everything but.
It started off with my brother getting a number we could use to bid on the washer and dryer with if need be.
We were 94.
My brother and I began to have fun bidding on things just to bid. We didn’t really want the stuff, but it was fun to yell out, “Yeah!”
Pretty soon, a “Charlie Brown”-style faux Christmas tree came up.
No one was bidding, not even the Vogts brothers.
Then the auctioneer threw in an orange life jacket.
My hand shot up in the air.
A dollar later, I was the proud owner of the tree and life preserver.
And so it had begun . . .
By the end of the day, I had spent nearly $50.
I was happy with most of it, except for the Christmas tree.
In fact, it didn’t make it home.
I planted it in a dumpster at the auction site.
The stuff that did make it home, though, included puzzles, lamps, pots and pans, a National Geographic book of award-winning and famous photos, a huge book full of Norman Rockwell prints, a set of collectable Norman Rockwell coffee mugs and much more.
It was a thrill to bid on things, and by the end the auctioneer had my number memorized, as he did with Dale’s number.
Also, my father showed up and bought a tractor.
My brother, who is very different than I, was quite excited to finally have a tractor he could play with.
I thought he was going to weep with joy.
We all bought a lot, and I had a blast, which is kind of embarrassing.
See, I have always made fun of my dad, Troy and Dale for enjoying such activities as auctions.
Now I understand.
It was a blast! I had a bunch of fun, even when I didn’t get the things I bid on.
I plan on going to auctions more often now.
I think I might be addicted now.
Don’t tell anyone, though. It will ruin my reputation.
Anheuser-Busch Sells To InBev
It’s no secret.
U.S. beer brewing juggernaut Anheuser-Busch is no longer a U.S. brewer.
The nation’s largest beer producer sold to Belgian-brewer InBev.
I’m not happy about it.
A-B produces my favorite beers, and I took pride in drinking the product of an American icon.
Now, I won’t be able to say that.
I’m not going to get into specifics about what transpired and how it is going to unfold as the $70-a-share deal becomes finalized. That can be found everywhere else, especially at The St. Louis Post-Dispatch.
Instead, I just wanted to say how disappointed I am.
I don’t know if I will be able to drink A-B products anymore because even if the brewing process doesn’t change, it just won’t taste the same.
I’m a huge St. Louis Cardinals fan, and I always associated A-B with my beloved Cardinals.
This won’t cause me to become less of a Cardinals fan, but it will just be weird to think the foreign InBev controls the beer of my team and taste buds.
Of course, I’m not the only one taking this hard. An entire Web site sprang up when the discussion first began.
It is called SaveAB.com, and it was a noble cause the site proprietors fought for.
I’m just worried about how it is going to affect everything.
A-B was very philanthropic, and they sponsored so many events, besides running theme parks and having the infamous Clydesdales.
I hope those types of things don’t change.
But they will. Just as jobs will be cut and advertising will most likely be scaled back.
It’s too bad.
There is definitely a tear in my beer.